Real or Not Real
by ishiptoast
Summary: The POV of the lovely Peeta Mellark in the cave scenes. Because you never know how perspective changes coming from the boy in love.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Guess what! I'm Suzanne Collins! That's why I'm using my time to write Fanfiction instead of enjoying my glorious life because of my obvious talent and success. Nope. Sadly, I'm just a nobody, and so I own nothing. Sigh.

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"Congratulations to the six tributes remaining!" I think I hear Claudius Templesmith announce, but with the throbbing in my head, it's too hard to tell. I try to remember which tributes remain, but the only one I know, the only one that really matters, is the one I've been keeping track of; watching the night sky for signs of her death. And unless my mind is distorted, she's still alive. The pain from my leg has left me irritable and unable to concentrate on anything lately. Even these simple words are hard to decipher. But then I think he says something about a rule change and I find myself paying more attention. I don't know why I care, since I'll be dead in a few days at best. Who cares what they do with their game? But I think of Katniss again, and how a rule change could affect her, and my mind instantly tries to make out the words, more clearly this time. "With the new rule change, both tributes from the same district will be declared winners if they are the last two alive."

My heart stops.

He repeats the change again, and I'm stunned. The tracker jacker venom must still be playing with my mind, because there's no way that could be right. I'm not that lucky.

Instead of trying to figure out what's real and what's not real, I try to sleep. Surprisingly, I find sleep easily, which is a big change compared to the last couple of nights. I think of Katniss, and picturing her big gray eyes helps lull me rest. Suddenly, I'm awoken by a sound of someone walking, maybe even running. I don't do anything about it, which is strange because the runner is most likely a threat to my life. But at this point, I figure I'll go any day now, and a strike from another tribute could only make the pain end faster.

Whoever it is, they don't have much luck finding me. I suppose my camouflage skills are better than I thought. I lie there, unmoving, until I hear her voice.

"Peeta, Peeta!"

I almost feel myself laughing. _Oh, you tracker jackers, playing with my mind._ At least it's a good hallucination.

I feel her getting closer to me, and I am confident that my artistic skills must be better than I thought, because she still hasn't noticed me.

For some strange reason, I'm happy. Here I am dying by a mud bank, with this venom toying with my mental stability, and yet I feel a smile creep up on my face. She's here, next to me. It gives me almost a giddy feeling. Of course, if she really was here, I'm sure the only reason would be to lessen the competition. So to prove whether it is indeed the venom or reality, I mutter, "You hear to finish me off, sweetheart?"

She ignores my question. "Peeta, where are you?"

I don't respond, instead I ponder about how well the mutts mimicked her voice, almost to perfection.

"Peeta!"

Tracker jacker influence or not, she hasn't noticed me yet, which I find amusing. I wonder how long it'll be until she realizes that I'm practically beneath her.

"Well don't step on me," I tease, waiting for her reaction.

I open my eyes, and her gasp is so loud that I begin to laugh.

"Close your eyes again," she says, and I oblige. "I guess all those hours decorating cakes paid off."

I smile thinking about it. "Yes frosting. The final defense of the dying."

"You're not going to die," she tells me confidently. I wonder how she could be so sure.

"Says who?" I ask, and somehow the image of Haymitch enters my head. _Stay alive,_ he had ordered.

"Says me. We're on the same team now, you know."

At this point, I'm seriously confused. I doubt the venom can truly work that well, make a wonderful hallucination, and confirm that the rule change announced was indeed correct. I begin to wonder if it's true. I open my eyes and look up at her again, realizing that there's no way I'm imagining her beauty.

My heart starts pounding. Why did she come for me? She must've known I was wounded, on my deathbed even. So why come searching for an ally you know will just be a burden? Could it be that she cares about me?

Then I remind myself that it doesn't matter. I'm still going to die, part of a team or not. "So I heard. Nice of you to find what's left of me."

It's at this point that I'm starting to get annoyed with death. Why'd it have to come now, when everything was starting to get better?

Katniss takes out a bottle of water and gives me a drink. My stomach complains a bit, it's not up to much at this point. "Did Cato cut you?"

I think of the spear cutting through my leg and I shiver, just thinking about it. "Left leg. Up high."

"Let's get you in the stream, wash you off so I can see what kind of wounds you've got," she says, and I start to wonder about _her_ sanity. Does she honestly think I could move at this point? She looks so earnest, determined to help me, her ally. I think of the people back home, watching. They must be getting excited, seeing us together like this. I remember that the more people engaged in this, in the "star-crossed lovers", the more sponsors we are likely to get. To remind her of this, I say, "Lean down a minute first. Need to tell you something." She does so, and I whisper into her ear. "Remember we're madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it."

She laughs at this, and I smile. "Thanks, I'll keep it in mind."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Here's chapter 2 you guys! I love writing in Peeta's POV...I hope you guys like reading it:)

Pain is all I can register. It's more intense, more severe than it ever has been. Katniss is doing the best she can, but there's only so much one can do when dealing with someone as wounded as I am. She tries dragging me to the stream, but, despite the short distance, all that results are screams of pain on my part, and looks of hopelessness on hers. Next she attempts to tug on me, removing me from my camouflaged position, and this time it's miserable. I'm trying to keep quiet; I know that any cry of pain could give away our location and initiate an attack, but I know I'm failing. Cries of pain escape my lungs, just as tears roll from my eyes. But the worst attempt is her idea to roll me into the stream. After I hear her count of three, I cringe up, knowing the pain is coming. She rolls me once, and all I want is death to come so this agony will go away.

"Okay, change of plans," Katniss says. "I'm not going to put you all the way in."

"No more rolling?" I almost beg.

"That's all done. Let's get you cleaned up. Keep an eye on the woods for me, okay?"

I try to do what she says, but I can't concentrate on anything besides the pain. I feel water wash over me, and assume she's cleaning my wounds. I do my best to assist her in any way that I can, but it's futile. My best way of helping is to not complain.

She removes the stingers that the tracker jackers left and the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the relief it offers. After the other wounds are taken care of, she addresses me about food. "You must be hungry."

"Not really. It's funny, I haven't been hungry for days." As if food could have ever crossed my mind lately. She offers me some type of meat, but I turn it down, my stomach queasy at the thought of it.

"Peeta, we need to get some food in you."

"It'll just come right back up," I say, but accept a few apple pieces just to please her. "Thanks. I'm much better, really. Can I sleep now, Katniss?"

"Soon. I need to look at your leg first."

Great. The moment I've been dreading.

I watch her reaction to my awful, bloody wound; see the disgusted and hopeless look in her eyes. "Pretty awful, huh?" I say.

"So-so." But her response doesn't meet her eyes. She's trying to be brave for me. "You should see some of the people they bring my mother from the mines. First thing is to clean it well."

She uses her water bottle to clean out the infection, and the condition of my leg looks worse and worse. "Why don't we give it some air and then…" she doesn't finish her thought, and I feel bad for her, knowing she must be lost.

"And then you'll patch it up?" I suggest.

"That's right. In the meantime, you eat these," she says, handing me some dried pears. I don't eat them, not wanting to vomit them up, and instead watch as Katniss goes through the contents of a medical kit.

"We're going to have to experiment some," she informs me. She presses the same leaves she used for my tracker jacker stings, and immediately pus leaves the gash. She looks like she's going to be sick.

"Katniss?" I look at her face and see the disgusted look in it. I decide to tease her. "How about that kiss?"

She laughs, and I respond innocently. "Something wrong?"

Katniss sighs, giving up the bravado act. "I…I'm no good at this. I'm not my mother. I've no idea what I'm doing and I hate pus. Euh! Euuuh!" she groans.

"How do you hunt?" I ask incredulously, wondering how she spends her daily life killing things, but can't face a little pus.

"Trust me. Killing things is much easier than this," she says and I have to chuckle. "Although for all I know, I am killing you."

I actually accept the thought. "Can you speed it up a little?"

"No," she growls. "Shut up and eat your pears."

She keeps working on the pus, the sickening look never leaving her face. "What next, Dr. Everdeen?" I ask.

"Maybe I'll put some of the burn ointment on it. I think it helps with infection anyway. And wrap it up?" She must agree with her statement, because she does just that. But then an unsatisfied look crosses her face. She pulls out a backpack. "Here, cover yourself with this and I'll was your shorts."

"Oh, I don't care if you see me," I tease her.

Katniss groans. "You're just like the rest of my family. I care, all right?"

I chuckle, but comply. After I'm covered I find the ability to throw my shorts into the stream, a feat that amazes me.

"You know, you're kind of squeamish for such a lethal person," I tell her as she cleans my shorts. Then an amusing thought hits me. "I wish I'd let you give Haymitch a shower after all."

Katniss wrinkles her nose in disgust. "What's he sent you so far?"

"Not a thing." Then it hits me. "Why, did you get something?"

"Burn medicine," she says, almost ashamed. "Oh, and some bread."

"I always knew you were his favorite." I think about how accepting he was when I told him my plan of keeping her alive. He always wanted her to be the one to win."

"Please, he can't stand being in the same room with me," she says.

"Because you're just alike," I mutter. It's not that I'm bitter that Katniss got supplies from sponsors, but it is a little disappointing to find out your mentor doesn't care about your survival.

After all of the stress of the day, I finally find sleep, which is relieving. Deadly pain will wipe you out. It feels like only a few moments later Katniss is shaking me awake. "Peeta, we've got to go now."

Her thought puzzles me. "Go? Go where?" Does she honestly think I can move at this point?

"Away from here. Downstream maybe. Somewhere we can hide you until you're stronger."

She helps me with my clothes, and suddenly I'm on my feet, and about to faint. The weight on my leg is unbearable. "Come on. You can do this," Katniss says, but her encouragement does little to help the pain. I'm leaning against her shoulder, and if I wasn't experiencing this brutal, seething pain I probably would have enjoyed the moment. At this point, she lets me rest, which is good because another second and I would've blacked out. After a little while, she leads me to a cave-like structure that will be our shelter for the time being. I get to lie down as she conceals the entrance, and just being off my feet takes a load of pain away.

Once I'm rested, I look up at Katniss, and my mind starts wandering. Why is she here? Why does she want to be with me? I'm only a burden to her, and yet, here she is, risking her survival for my own. It makes no sense. If her solemn mission was to win these games, she'd be off alone, up in a tree, picking off the competition. But she's not. I can't help but wonder if the reason she's here is because she has feelings for me. And if that's it, then for the first time dying doesn't sound so good anymore. I wonder if she knows just how I feel about her, the extent of it. And suddenly, I can't stand the thought of her not knowing my feelings before I die.

"Katniss," I say. She needs to know how important she is to me. "Thanks for finding me."

She's brushing the hair away from my eyes as she says, "You would have found me if you could."

"Yes. Look, if I don't make it back-" I begin, but she interrupts me.

"Don't talk like that. I didn't drain all that puss for nothing."

She's missing the point. She must know that the chances of my returning home are slim, nonexistent even. "I know. But just in case I don't-" It's all I can get out before she interrupts me again.

"No, Peeta, I don't even want to discuss it," Katniss says and places her fingers on my lips. It's quite distracting really, but I must concentrate on what I need to tell her, about how much I love her.

"But I-" That's all I get out before something ends my train of thought; the determination I was holding and my resolve are forgotten. Because she's kissing me.

To say I've never thought about this moment, planned it in my head, would be a lie. Although every time I imagined our first kiss it was never huddled in a dark cave in an arena where we could die at any moment. But I can't say I'm complaining.

She breaks away before the fireworks erupt inside me. I want to hold onto this feeling-the feeling of her lips on mine, the warmth that rushes through me-but the pain from my leg engulfs me and I remember that I don't have much time left to be with her.

"You're not going to die," she says. "I forbid it. All right?"

"All right," I whisper. If only it was true.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update! It's just...life happens, you know? (More like I was too busy fangirling over all the new Catching Fire stuff...can you blame me?) But no worries, I'm back and ready for more Peeta's POV. Don't you just love Peeta? I know I do...**

**Well, before I start ranting and you get sick of me...here's Chapter 3:)**

Something wakes me up from the nap I was taking, and I realize she's kissed me awake. I'm startled at first, but looking into her beautiful gray eyes brings on a smile and I can't take my eyes off her.

She holds up a pot of who-knows-what. "Peeta, look what Haymitch has sent you."

"What is it?" I ask, hesitantly.

"It's broth. I'm sure it's delicious," she says encouragingly.

My stomach tightens at the thought of food and it's all I can do not to vomit right there. Instead I cover my head with the sleeping bag, trying to hide from the smell.

"Come on Peeta, you need to eat." She pulls down the tip of the sleeping bag, revealing my sullen face.

"No thanks. You eat it, Katniss," I offer.

"No, Peeta, you _have _to eat. Keep your strength up. Please eat it. For me?" She's batting her eyelashes at me, and it's so adorable that I let her give me a few sips, but I can't hold more. I turn my head away, but I can tell she's scowling.

"You've got to finish it, Peeta!" I shake my head in reply. "If you don't eat it, then I'll leave and you'll have to eat the broth alone!" The thought of her leaving me is so horrible that I choke down more of that horrendous soup, but it's not until she offers me a kiss for each sip I take that I act eagerly. I make myself finish the pot-despite the complaining from my stomach-in a _lot _of sips.

The pain from my leg leaves me exhausted, and I can't keep my eyes open any longer.

I have a dream where I'm back with the Careers, still trying to lead them away from Katniss. Except this time, I take a wrong turn or something, because I've led them right to her. They want her to suffer and me as well, so when I see Cato pull out his spear I know it's going to be terrible. _That's right lover boy. _He's saying_. This is all _your_ fault. And now you get to watch her die. _They all laugh as the bloody, horrible spear goes through Katniss' body. I'm screaming at them, but they ignore me, yelling hideous things at her, at me. My dream self can't move; whether it's from shock, terror, or the agony I'm feeling at the situation, I don't know. I just stand there watching the life drain out of the girl I love, because of me.

I wake up suddenly, my heart still pounding from my nightmare. I look around for Katniss, needing to look into those gray eyes to know that she's alive, that she's still here with me. But she's not here. I feel the terror rise up in me as I think about my dream, about how maybe it wasn't just a dream, that she's gone forever when she finally comes back into the cave.

"I woke up and you were gone," I say. "I was worried about you." More than worried, I was terrified.

Surprisingly, she just laughs. "You were worried about me? Have you taken a look at yourself lately?"

"I thought Cato and Clove might have found you. They like to hunt at night."

"Clove? Which one is that?" she asks.

"The girl from District Two. She's still alive right?" I say with a chill inside me. "Yes, there's just them and us and Thresh and Foxface," says Katniss.

_Foxface__?_

"That's what I nicknamed the girl from Five," she says, reading my mind. "How do you feel?"

"Better than yesterday. This is an enormous improvement over the mud. Clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag...and you," I tell her honestly. I never imagined I'd make it this far, let alone getting to be with her at this point. And I'm so glad she is here with me, not gone forever like in my dream.

She reaches up her hand to stroke my cheek and I catch it, pulling her fingers to my lips. I've actually seen her father do this to her mother; I wonder if she recognizes the gesture.

"No more kisses for you until you've eaten," she says.

I can't help but scowl at that thought_._

I sit up against the cave wall and let her feed me spoonfuls of the berry mush because the thought of not getting another kiss from her is worse than the protesting in my stomach. Much worse.

I see the tired look in her eyes and realize she didn't get any rest last night. "You didn't sleep," I say.

"I'm alright," she mutters, but it's not hard to miss the exhaustion overwhelming her.

"Sleep now. I'll keep watch. I'll wake you if anything happens," I say. She hesitates. "Katniss, you can't stay up forever."

The determined look in her eyes says that should could, in fact, stay up forever. But she finally gives in. "All right, but just for a few hours. Then you wake me."

Katniss lies down on the sleeping back with her weapons ready, and I sit next to her, leaning against the wall, watching the outside world. "Go to sleep," I whisper to her. Just looking at her, so peaceful, I feel the rush of warmth that she brings to everything. I lean over her and brush the loose strands of hair away from her eyes, her beautiful eyes, and all I can do is stare at her. How did I get so lucky? I get to be here, with her. There isn't anywhere in the world I'd rather be than here with her next to me.

I occasionally glance outside, searching for any signs of disturbance, but there's nothing. I turn to Katniss and just stare as she breathes deeply, her face for once scowl-less. She looks much younger in her sleep, so innocent. I lean down and gently kiss her forehead. Time passes, but I hardly notice. I'd be content just sitting here watching her sleep forever. When I notice the light rays of morning turn into the deep afternoon light, she starts to stir and I'm rewarded with her opened eyes gazing into mine.

"Peeta, you were supposed to wake me after a couple of hours," she complains.

"For what?" I ask. "Nothing's going on here. Besides I like to watch you sleep. You don't scowl. Improves your looks a lot."

Katniss scowls as I knew she would and I laugh. She looks at me intently, putting her hand on my cheek, to test my temperature. By the feeling in my head and the look in her eyes, I can only assume it's gone nowhere but up.

"Have you been drinking?" she asks me, eyeing the water bottles.

"Of course," I lie. Truthfully water sounded just as good as another pot of broth. But she still makes me drink two quarts of water and take another round of fever pills. She's checking my minor wounds, the burns and stings that seem so inconsequential to my leg. But eventually nothing is in the way to stall her and she checks the injury.

I look up at her pale face, her clenched fingers, and the scared expression in her eyes. I look at gash in my leg, see the red streaks crawling up it, and I know now more than ever that I'm going to die.

She must know that too but all she says is, "Well, there's more swelling, but the pus is gone."

"I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss," I respond. "Even if my mother isn't a healer."

She looks frightened, desperate. "You're just going to have to outlast the others, Peeta. They'll cure it back in the Capitol when we win."

I can't stand seeing her like this, the pain she's obviously feeling. "Yes, that's a good plan," I say, though I know it's not going to happen.

"You have to eat. Keep your strength up. I'm going to make you soup," she says.

_Again with the food,_ I think. But I don't say it aloud because she seems so genuinely distressed that just adding another thing for her to worry about would not be fair on my part.

"Don't light a fire," I say, not wanting her to be anywhere near danger when I am so incapable of protecting her. "It's not worth it."

"We'll see," she says and leaves the cave to cook. I don't know if she complies with my warning but I don't make it an issue because it's not like I can check up on her, and it seems like she has a lot on her mind. So I give her some space.

My leg is hurting now more than ever and the only thing stopping my thoughts of just dying, ending the misery is Katniss. She comes back in right then, and I'm glad she's with me, my only comfort in the situation. She places cool cloths on my forehead, but it isn't helping.

"Do you want anything?" she asks.

"No. Thank you," I say, but quickly change my mind. "Wait yes. Tell me a story." I'm dying to know more about her, considering all I know is what I've witnessed myself. And that's not a lot. I know she must have thousands of stories from her past.

"A story? What about?" she asks.

"Something happy. Tell me about the happiest day you can remember."

She sighs and a small smile plays on my lips. In a world like the one we live in, happy moments are rare.

"Did I ever tell you about how I got Prim's goat?" Katniss asks and I smile thinking about how of course her happiest moment involves Prim. I shake my head no, and she begins the story of Lady, Prim's goat. Apparently in order to earn enough money for the animal, Katniss sold her mother's old silver locket. Then they went to the goat man—a man who lives around the Seam and sells goat cheese and milk—where they found Lady, barely alive. Katniss says that the goat was so wounded they didn't know if it was worth the price, but she bought it anyway, knowing her mother was the most fit to try to heal it. And after some work, she and Prim saved the goat. It's amazing when I think of the healing her mother does, and how Katniss is here, healing me. "They sound like you," I tell her, but she looks astonished that I'd ever compare her to her mother or sister.

"Oh, no, Peeta. They work magic. That thing couldn't have died if it tried," says Katniss, with a small smile on her face until she realizes what she said.

"Don't worry. I'm not trying," I joke, not wanting her to feel responsible. "Finish the story."

"Well, that's it. Only I remember that night, Prim insisted on sleeping with Lady on a blanket next to the fire. And just before they drifted off, the goat licked her cheek, like it was giving her a good night kiss or something. It was already mad about her," Katniss says. Her story makes me happy. I can imagine Prim's giggles and laughter and isn't hard to imagine the goat loving Prim. I can see the whole scenario in my head.

"Was it still wearing the pink ribbon? I ask, remembering that she said she bought one to put around the goat to give to Prim.

"I think so," she says. "Why?"

"I'm just trying to get a picture," I say, thinking about all the pieces of the story. Prim's happiness must've thrilled Katniss. "I can see why that day made you happy."

"Well I knew that goat would be a little gold mine," she says.

"Yes, of course I was referring to that, not the lasting joy you gave the sister you love so much you took her place in the reaping," I say.

"The goat _has _paid for itself. Several times over," she smirks.

"Well, it wouldn't dare do anything else after you saved its life. I intend to do the same thing," I say.

"Really?" Katniss asks. "What did you cost me again?"

"A lot of trouble. Don't worry. You'll get it back," I say.

"You're not making sense," she says, putting her hand to my forehead, as if the temperature measures my sanity."You're a little cooler though." It's an obvious lie, but I don't point this out since she's only said it for my benefit.


End file.
